All The Right Moves
by Megan13
Summary: AU Clato - As members of the Rebellion, Cato wins the 70th Games and Clove wins the 72nd Games.


**Title:** All The Right Moves  
**Characters/Pairings:** Cato/Clove, mentions past Clove/OMC  
**Spoilers/Warning:** PG13  
**Summary:** AU Clato - As members of the Rebellion, Cato wins the 70th Games and Clove wins the 72nd Games.  
**Disclaimer:** Not authorized, prepared, approved, licensed, or endorsed by Suzanne Collins, Lions Gate, or any other individual or entity associated with the Hunger Games books or films. All Hunger Games logos, trademarks, names, characters, and related indicia are the property of Lions Gate, Suzanne Collins, and/or their respective owners. I do not claim any affiliation with those who own Hunger Games and would like to make it clear that no copyright infringement is intended in the publication of this story  
**Author's Note: **I've never written HG fiction before and I'm super rusty, so be warned. I understand Cato and Clove will sound way OOC in this story, but there are a lot of elements to this AU that cause the difference in behavior you won't see in these short ficlets. I tried humanizing them, so they're typical teenagers living in atypical times. I want to turn this into a full-fledged multi-chaptered AU story spanning HG, CF and M, but, as my track record with finishing stories isn't the best I can't make any promises. Story is mostly Cato's POV. Please let me know what you think and whether I should continue.

* * *

**7****0****th**** Hunger Games:**

"What were you thinking?!"

Cato takes a deep breath before pushing forward to his feet. He's been planning to volunteer as tribute for the 70th Hunger Games for months now and, though he knew this day was quickly approaching, he's still not any more prepared to have this conversation than he was when he made his initial decision.

"Dad-"

"This isn't your year!" His father's voice booms across the small office. "You're not ready, Cato!"

"Dad, please."

"You're supposed to train for two more years," his father yells at him. "You're supposed to be more prepared, physically and mentally. You haven't even completed your program yet. You're not ready, Cato."

"Dad, listen," Cato says softly. "I need you to understand that this is the only way. I'm tired of letting them use me against you. These new taxes and tariffs you've established, the crackdown on hunting – they're enslaving our District by driving an even larger wedge between the wealthy and the poor and forcing people into the streets or into their Peacekeeper army. I'm sick of it. And I'm sick of them using you to do it. You're the Mayor of District Two but you have no power because of me."

"That's not true."

"It is." Cato takes a deep breath. "I know what you do behind closed doors. I've talked to Lyme myself."

"If she put you up to this-"

"She didn't," Cato answers quickly. "But what she said only gave me more reason to volunteer. If I win, I can use my influence to help. If I die-"

"Don't."

"If I die, they won't have anything to hold over your head." Cato glances at the framed photo on his father's desk, the one taken just days before his mother's 'accident'. "Not anymore."

"But you're not ready," his father says. He crosses the room in four swift steps and wraps his arms around Cato's broad shoulders. "_I'm_ not ready."

**71****st**** Hunger Games:**

"So we have come to a decision. Clove will-"

"I voted no," Cato interrupts his mentor. "I don't think she's capable of winning."

Cato ignores the squawk of indignant outrage coming from his left side and focuses his attention on the woman seated directly across the conference table from him. He knows his protests are ultimately futile, but after what happened to the last Tribute he mentored, he's going to do his damndest to keep this friend out of that arena.

"I understand your hesitancy Mr. Conroy, what with losing Fabian so close to the end this year, but, while your opinion is valued, the rest of the panel does not agree with your assessment," Lyme says evenly, not at all taking his objections into consideration. "Clove will volunteer as Tribute for the 72nd Hunger Games. You will Mentor her and we _will_ have another Victor fighting for our cause."

"But-"

"As there are no other topics to discuss," Lyme continues loudly, but smoothly, "we will bring this meeting to an end. Congratulations, Clove. Gentlemen."

And with that, Cato watches as five of District Two's most powerful and influential people file out of the conference room. His father only hesitates a moment, just long enough to place what he hopes is a comforting hand on his son's shoulder (it isn't), before departing. It's just the two of them then and Cato can practically feel Clove glaring at him.

"You don't think I can win?"

Cato swivels around to face her and is surprised to find that she not only looks angry, but hurt as well. "That's not what I meant."

Clove only raises an eyebrow in response.

"I think you're more than capable of winning," Cato admits. "But I thought Fabian was capable of winning too and if I was wrong before..." He trails off with a shrug.

"Fabian fell out of favor with the Gamemakers," Clove tells him softly. "He didn't want to kill the little girl from Five and they saw that as an act of defiance. When it came down to it, he was weak. There's nothing you could have done about that."

"So you don't hate me?"

"What have you done to make me hate you, Cato?"

Cato grimaces. It hurts to think about Fabian – about his first training partner, his first real friend, his first dead Tribute – but he knows he needs closure and, he thinks, Clove's forgiveness might be a step in the right direction.

"I didn't bring him home," he whispers.

Clove shakes her head sadly. "No, you didn't."

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"We can't change the past, Cato," Clove tells him with a sigh. "We can only move forward and fight for a better future. Fabian didn't come home, but I will."

**72****nd**** Hunger Games:**

District Two isn't far from the Capitol and the ride only takes a few hours. Cato is actually quite pleased with the way Clove handles the crowd, smirking slyly with her head held high, as they pushed through the crush of people and into the Training Center a few hours ago.

Tomorrow she'll spend most of her day in the Remake Center and he'll begin schmoozing the Capitolites, but tonight they're free to do whatever they please. They eat supper quickly and watch the recaps with Marius (Clove's male counterpart), Enobaria, and D-2's over-the-top Escort, Jamison Jewel. There's a quick discussion about their opponent's apparent strengths and weaknesses before everyone is dismissed for the rest of the evening. Without hesitating, Cato grabs Clove's hand and pulls her into the elevator. He pushes the button for the roof and smiles unconsciously as Clove leans into him for the duration of the ride.

"Oh wow," Clove breathes when the elevator doors open and they step onto the rooftop garden. The view of the city is vast and spectacular, the scent of the flowers and trees tantalizing and Cato is so happy he gets to share this quiet time with her before the circus begins in the morning.

"Come on," he says, squeezing her hand and leading her through the garden to the edge of the building.

"It's beautiful," Clove whispers as they watch the cars and the people and the lights dance around below them. She frowns and turns to him. "I'm surprised we're allowed up here."

"Why?" Cato cocks his head curiously.

"Aren't they afraid some desperate Tribute will fling himself over the edge?"

"Electric fence," Cato explains simply. "You jump, you ricochet right back."

"Ahh."

"You were perfect this afternoon," Cato says once they've turned their attention back to the city's skyline. _You're always perfect_, he wants to add, but chooses not to. While the view and the blossoms would usually make this an ideal time to confess the feelings he's slowly been building for her, the fact that she's going into the arena in a few days stops him. The last thing she needs is for him, her friend/Mentor, to do is throw her off her game and he's pretty sure telling her he thinks he's in love with her will do just that. So, instead, he tells her, "You oozed confidence all day. The Gamemakers, and the sponsors especially, love that."

Clove nods. "Is that my angle?"

"Is it an angle?" Cato asks. "Or is it the truth?"

She's quiet for a moment, considering the question. "I'm as confident as a Tribute can be, but that doesn't mean I'm not scared shitless." She hesitates a moment before looking up at him with watery eyes. "I don't want to die, Cato."

His heart breaks into a million little pieces at her confession so he does the only thing he can think of to make himself feel better - he pulls her against his chest and holds her tightly and breathes into her hair, "I won't let you die, Clove. I won't."

Because he pretty sure that, if she dies, he'll die right along with her.

**73****rd**** Hunger Games:**

It's extremely difficult when you lose your first Tribute and so Cato isn't the least bit surprised when his bedroom door clicks open late that night. He watches as Clove peaks around the door and then silently slips into the room. She carefully makes her way to his bed, the darkness of the room making it difficult to maneuver around the furniture and the clothes and the strategy guides strewn about the floor, and hesitates only a second before sliding onto the bed as he lifts the covers so she can snuggle into him, her back to his chest.

They lay like that for a few quiet moments before she whispers softly, "Does it get any better?"

Cato shakes his head and stays silent.

"I didn't think it'd be like this." She sniffles, but he knows she's not openly crying. "I didn't know her well from the Academy, but when she fell... It felt like my heart was being ripped out." There's a pause and then Clove shuffles around so that she's facing him, their foreheads almost touching. "I can't imagine what it was like for you."

Cato drops her gaze. He doesn't want to think about losing Tributes and, while watching Mutts rip his friend apart had been one of the most horrifying and defining moments of his life, the most excruciating pain he's ever felt was during last year's Games. He remembers watching helplessly as the boy from District One had slithered through the Career Camp late one night, methodically cutting the throats of his alliance as they slept. He remembers screaming and crying and pleading with Clove to just Wake up! Wake up and run! And when she did miraculously open her eyes and bolt from the tent, he'd nearly collapsed into Finnick Odairs's arms in relief. Just thinking about it causes bile to rise in the back of his throat.

"I'm sorry," Clove apologizes, not realizing his distress is due to memories of almost losing her and not from _actually_ losing his friend. "I shouldn't have brought up Fabian like that."

Cato lets out a humorless chuckle. "I wasn't thinking about him."

Clove's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I was thinking about what it would have felt like to lose _you_ in that arena," Cato admits softly and presses his forehead against hers. "I can handle it being anyone else, but my heart would have stopped beating in my chest if I'd lost you. I don't have the will to live without you in my life."

"Why?"

He's thought about telling her a million times over the past year but the moment never felt right and, while it doesn't now either, he's suddenly realized that there will never be a perfect time or place to tell your best friend you're in love with her. So he breathes deeply and takes the leap.

"Because I'm in love with you."

And he finally kisses her.

_**Please Review**_


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